Read Online (1941) Up at the Villa by W. Somerset Maugham - Free Book Online

you'll help me we can get him into the
car. You know all these hills round here. We can surely find a place to put him
where he won't be found for months.’
    `But he'll be missed. They'll look for him.’
    `Why should they? Who's going to bother about an Italian
fiddler? He might have just done a bolt because he couldn't pay his rent, or
run away with somebody else's wife.’
    `He wasn't Italian. He was an Austrian refugee.’
    `Well, that's all the better. Then you can bet your boots
no one's going to make a song and dance about him.’
    `It's an awful thing to have to do, Rowley. And what about you? Aren't you taking a fearful risk?’
    `It's the only thing to do, my dear, and as far as I'm
concerned you needn't worry about that. To tell you the truth I rather like
taking chances. I'm for getting all the thrills out of life one can.’
    It heartened Mary to hear him speak so lightly. Her
anguish seemed not quite so intolerable. There was just a hope that they might
be able to do what he proposed. But once more doubt assailed her.
    `It'll be light soon. The peasants will be setting out to
their work as soon as it's dawn.’
    He glanced at his watch.
    `When. does it get light? Not before five. We've got an hour. If we look sharp we can just
manage lt.’
    She sighed deeply.
    `I put myself in your hands. I'll do whatever you say.’
    `Come on, then. And keep a stiff upper lip for Christ's
sake.’
    Rowley picked up the dead man's hat and they went back
into the room in which he was lying.
    `Catch hold of the legs,' said Rowley.
    `I'll take him under the arms.’
    They lifted him up and carried him into the hall and out
of the front door. With difficulty, Rowley walking backwards, they got him down
the steps. Then they put the body down. It seemed fearfully heavy.
    `Can you bring the car up here?' asked Rowley.
    `Yes, but there's no place to turn. I shall have to back down,' she answered doubtfully.
    `I'll manage that.’
    She walked down to the end of the narrow drive and
brought the car up. Meanwhile Rowley went back into the house. There was blood
on the marble floor not much, fortunately, because the man had shot himself
through the breast and the haemorrhage was internal. He went into the bathroom,
took a towel off the rack and soaked it in water. He mopped up the bloodstains.
The floor was of a deep red marble and he was pretty sure that on a cursory
glance, the sort of glance a maid would give who was sweeping, nothing would be
apparent. He took the wet, blood-stained towel in his hand and once more went
out. Mary was waiting by the car. She did not ask him what he had been doing.
Rowley opened the rear door and again put his arms under the dead man's. He
hoisted him up and Mary, seeing he was having difficulty, lifted the feet. They
did not speak. They laid the body on the floor and Rowley wrapped the towel
round the dead man's middle in case the jolting caused a flow of blood. He
jammed the soft hat on his head. Rowley got into the driving seat and backed
down to the gates. Here there was plenty of room to turn.
    `Shall I drive?”
    ‘Yes. Turn to the right at the bottom of the hill.’
    `Let's get off the main road as soon as we can.’
    `About four or five miles along there's a road that leads
up to a village on the top of a hill. I think I remember a wood on one side.’
    When they came to the highway Rowley put on speed.
    `You're driving awfully fast,' said Mary.
    `We haven't got much time to waste, my sweet' he said
acidly.
    `I'm so terribly scared.’
    `That's going to do a fat lot of good.’
    His manner was bitter and she was silent The moon had set and it was very dark. Mary could not see
the speedometer; she had a notion they must be doing hard on eighty. She sat
with her hands clenched. It seemed an awful thing that they were doing, a
dangerous thing, and yet it was her only chance. Her heart was beating
painfully. She kept on repeating to herself:
    `What a fool I've